Chivalric Sins
by A. Jennings
Summary: Vegeta's sucked into a world of sin, becoming a hit man with one new target. Is this young man really evil? The making of Vegeta! OOC Original story! R
1. Decisions

As in most stories this one begins on a soft summer day, long before the sun would nuzzle above the mountains in the east, and many hours before the birds would feel the thick air with lullabies of ending summer, our hero laid awake in his plush bed the creamy ceiling his only companion as he glanced again to his clock. The red digits read only 3 A.M. A soft sigh escaped as he rose up from the bed looking for his boxers.

If only every morning could begin later, and every sorrow in his mind had left with last nights dreams, his chest was heavy with tensions lying deep within; he paced through his apartment, like a robot, fulfilling each task but without emotion, or meaning. The cold shower water was the same as yesterdays, the coffee was bitter, soothing, just as in was everyday. Constancy kept this young man sane, but drove him to insanity all at the same time. Would he do these very tasks everyday for the rest of his life? What was there for him to accomplish, was there anything that would make each morning of waking worth it?

Could he stand to live everyday, and die, without one care, one tear for him? He would never be known by anyone, in any text, just dirt. This certain young man was not ready to except that all he would be good for was fertilizer in 60 years. He got dressed and left the humble apartment into the mazy streets of Tokyo. The streets breathed people into the morning air, the towers the loomed above him rung the early hour of 6 A.M. but the people began their journeys to jobs and careers. No one glanced at him with suspicion or fear, nor respect or love. These people glanced through him, and he truly had no one. A million people stood next to him, and none of them knew his name, or where he lived. The usual depression of morning rode him as he walked into a local gym.

He entered unnoticed; the manager sat behind the desk watching boxing on the television, no one else was in the gym. Vegeta began his daily routine, and finished about 8, He really had no concern for physical appearance but the workouts were suggested by his therapist and usually did a nice job of easing away his depression. He left into the streets, now more crowded then ever. There were so many things a male of his young twenty's was supposed to depend, most importantly seemed to be a woman. To be frank Vegeta never saw any reason for a companion, he enjoyed going out every once in a while and sex wasn't to far down his top 10 list of things to do, but he would go on without it. He didn't need another person holding his hand to make his day better; he didn't need anything to complete him. Too many of his pieces seemed missing as it were. In any case, it was that time of year, and every morsel on earth had their significant other. He watched everyone around him with his usual emotionless stare.

Ah, he almost forgot. Breakfast time. Vegeta hoped on the 3rd street train, in his opinion in was much less crowed then the one on Fourth Street. He was willing to risk the extra block walk to the train stop for some much needed breathing space. Someone, however, did notice that Vegeta was a human being today. Rare, really it was. She was tall, blonde, gaunt, an attractive creature but...

"Why hello dear, may I pop a squat?" Ah damnit, why'd she open that mouth. Vegeta grunted in approval but shifted over a bit. The dime three seats over captured his interest with the utmost importance now. Hopefully she'd notice. "The weathers been Wonderful hasn't it? I'm visiting from England, have you ever been there, lovely place." She began unfolding a map over her home planet and insisted Vegeta pay attention. "You see that dot?"

"Yes."

"That's where I live. Isn't it cozy looking?"

"It's a nice dot."

"I know! My family in Japan insists on staying here, but I tell them over and over, it's So much nicer back home." She sighed folding her map away shoving it in a microscopic handbag and stood. "Welp this is my stop!" It was also Vegeta's but he nodded a goodbye and waited till she was out of sight before slipping out of iron doors.

The large train station was packed this time of day, it laid in a cool cave under the busy streets of Japan. A thin sheen a sweat caressed his heavy black brows as he embraced the heat of Japans summer. The steel builds rose far above the streets, like a gate gripping its inhabitants. It was all one giant circus act, the people fill there lives with meaningless chore, performing each show with the ease of everyday existence and the comedic relief of all the silly things people do. Was Vegeta really the only person who noticed this? Who longed to break away? He would rather own the city then be played like a puppet. He trailed off in thought as the flow of people carried him towards a restaurant only a few buildings down. The restaurant was called the Decisions. The food was hot and cheap, and it served about everything made under the sun, hints the name. He gripped the large brass handle of the restaurant doors, the people chattered and mumbled inside, the thick smell of food filtered through every splinter of the aged red door, but something stopped Vegeta from opening the door. Something that would truly define him, a decision. The blonde women from the train passed him right before he entered, out of the corner of his eye he saw her fall back into an alley. Guarded by the angle of the neighboring building he couldn't tell if she had meant to walk down the alley or perhaps, had been persuaded. He sighed looking at the door in front of him. What did he care if she was hurt, even mugged. Vegeta had tried so desperately to escape her clutches on the bus. He stepped away from the restaurant and ran to the alleyway.

Sure enough Blondie cried helplessly into the midmorning air as her predator held a thin metallic gun to her delicate jaw line. They had moved down the alley and far from the street. Vegeta was a fairly strong guy, but he couldn't fight, especially against bullets. (Every Vegeta fan out there is So hating this out of characterness aren't we. Well it's my job kiddies!) Was he brave enough? Vegeta probably had never done a noble thing in his life but he'd put himself in this position, he knew what was going on and to run away now would be killing her himself. He ran towards the large man pinning her against the wall. He was much taller then Vegeta, and build like a tank.

The Predator of course noticed Vegeta long before he reached him, and threw the girl against the ground and fired a single shot into the young Vegeta's body. Watching it fall to the littered alley way ground. Vegeta gasped out holding his side, the pain was slowly gripping his every nerve, before long his toes were aching. He couldn't remember where he was, or even what he was doing. His entire being was focused on the single throbbing pain that melding to his side. He cried out, he face rubbing rough, the skin peeling away from him forehead against the thick blacktop.

First chapter complete, it's pretty upbeat, I will point out that Vegeta is not Vegeta…Yet. This is a storey of the Making of Vegeta, and please keep that in mind. What do you kids want to happen next? Please read and review.


	2. City Skylines

**Chapter 2**

Predator looked down at the injured 'hero' and threw a look over his shoulder at Miss Damsel. "Ah look at cha? You got a man shot, now gimme ya goods a get moving, you call the cops and I'll kill you next." He leaned down scooping the wounded Vegeta over his shoulder and walked farther down the alley to his parked car, many would call it a dump, but then again he was mugging women, it's not considered a steady income to most. He dumped Vegeta on the back hood of the car and flipped open a cell phone. Dialing a number only he knew by heart.

"Listen boss, I was out on Fourth, and some damned kid tried to play hero...yeah I shot him" He paused leaning back against the black rust covered car, mechanically lighting a cigarette. "Boss he coulda been armed, ya never know." Vegeta let out a strained moan from the hood of the car as he grabbed at his side, only making himself hiss out in pain. Predator turned around as his boss continued to list instructions. "Hey do ya mind? I'm trying to have a conversation on the phone...No boss I was talking to him. Now what? Yeah he's still breathing...no it was only a minor wound." He tall man paused over Vegeta and pulled his hands away from the wound to look at it. "He'll live with medical help. You want me to what?" He paused and threw the butt of the cigarette to the ground stomping on it while opening the backseat of his car and putting vegeta in. "Alright I'll be there in about." He glanced at his lovely fake gold Rolex. "Twenty minutes." He flipped the cell phone closed tossing it in the front seat and looked at the smaller man, he was well built and had no distinguishing qualities about him, black hair, cut very close to his head (What no Vegeta flame hair, On Noes!) He in fact looked somewhat puny. He applied an old stained tee-shirt to Vegeta's wound. "Stop crying...listen in ya want to live hold this to ya side."

Vegeta only muttered out a few curse words but did as he was told, and before long Vegeta was looking upside down out the back window of the old car, he saw the tops of the looming towers of Tokyo, streetlights and every once in a while a cloud, a glimmer of the sun. The pain was numb, or maybe it was just Vegeta that was freezing up slowly, was he dying? He couldn't honestly say he cared, every heart beat focused on the sky, everything he never took the time to look at, was suddenly the only thing he could see. The building grew sparse as he began to see trees, and sky, so much sky. The sun glowed on his paling face, and he felt suddenly warm as he looked out the greased up back window.

To think that one small decision as that had gotten him shot a first in his book. And now...was he kidnapped? Not much he could do about it now, he could barely sit up, it wouldn't be a challenge for any man to kill him now, or maybe they already had, were they just going to sit him out and let him die? Or did today have more in store then Vegeta could have accepted. He sighed as the car rolled to a stop. Vegeta couldn't make out much more then the room line of a single story home, well maybe not Home, but something along those lines. The back door opened and Predator peeked in. "Hey you look like shit buddy." They both paused looking into each others eyes for just a moment, and even Vegeta couldn't help but laugh. It hurt like hell too!

Everyone hate _tiny _updates? I'm terribly sorry, I just felt the first chapter cut off and I wanted to round it out a little bit, I promise the next will be a bit longer. What how is everyone liking it so far? What will happen next? Who is Vegeta getting himself tangled up in, and what will they do with him?** Next Time on Dragonball Z!** Snicker couldn't help it.


	3. Basement Horrors

**Chapter 3**

Vegeta began slowly drifting in and out of conciseness as he entered a small one story home on the shoulder of the Predator, he couldn't say he knew a great deal about the human body and Vegeta was far from being a doctor, but he knew he was losing to much blood, and even worse, this house wasn't looking much like a hospital. The house felt lived in; he almost expected to see a family of 5 sitting at the large oak table as they walked into the dinning room. No one sat at the table, aside from one lonely bowl of fake fruit. They, I mean Predator, walked further into the house, each room looking more homey then the next. Checkered and floral wallpaper covered the walls; family pictures lined a small hallway. He began to drift off again as they entered what he assumed was a basement, it felt cold and damp, and held that familiar musky smell, but he hadn't opened his eyes since they set foot on the steps, he felt himself growing weaker and before long he passed out.

He awoke hazy, yet again his only companion was an insulation covered ceiling, its cotton candy appearance held only by naked wooden beams seemed almost comforting to the man. He began to actually remember what had taken place only hours before, his hand instinctively felt for his side, it was well bandaged, and aside from the agonizing pain, he felt better. You know it's bad when you're comforted by your own pain, but Vegeta was, he wasn't numb, he could think, and strategize.

Why hadn't they killed him yet? Or better yet, just left him out on the streets to die? He had nothing they could want, no money, no family, and certainly no information they could need. He sighed against the cold-his head rolled over to the side noticing the very professional medical examination table he lay on. He was pretty sure not every household had one of those lying around. He slowly soaked up his surroundings noticing an IV stand beside the table. Vegeta's heart began to race as he tried to sit up. Where the hell was he?

"Woah buddy, I wouldn't sit up if I were you." A deep sympatric voice called from a doorway to Vegeta's right. His neck craned around to notice a plump figure filling the doorway; the man huffed softly and walked through, examining over Vegeta with the greatest of care. He readjusted his glasses and picked up a chart filling it out to strained attention. "How are you feelings?"

"Where am I?"

He picked up his pen and began writing with his brow twisted in concentration. "Well you'll be happy to hear, you aren't dead!" He reported this news with a wide grin across his thick face.

"Where am I?" Vegeta's face remained solemn, as he watched the man carefully.

The stranger frowned, "Listen, you're one lucky son of a bitch. You Should be dead?" He huffed to himself and mumbled something about ungrateful bastard as he probed at Vegeta's tender side.

"How is he Frank?" Another figure appeared in the doorway, Vegeta couldn't make out anything distinguishing about him other then, his height, he loomed above Frank and himself easily, and his thick mop of blonde hair brushed the top of the doorway. His hazy eyes fell on Vegeta.

The man now called Frank shifted over picking up his notes to show Tallness, but the man didn't seem interested, and craned over Vegeta, his tan skin looked almost black in the poor lighting of his 'hospital' room. Vegeta laid back on the table looking at the ceiling, something didn't feel right, the warm and fuzzies had left when that man walked into the room. Vegeta was swept with panic, this man didn't care if Vegeta died, nope not one little bit. It wasn't a comforting thought when he realized his life lie in this mans hands. He cleared his through nervously. "W-why am I here?" Why was he so fucking scared, he was shaking? Was it cold in here? He opened his auburn eyes only to meet the murky eyes of Him.

"You're in good shape aren't you?" He lifted Vegeta's shirt, noticing the definition of his muscles and continued to prod over every inch of his body. "Ever broke any bones?"

"No." He watched with nervous eyes.

He ran his fingers through a small ruffle of blonde hair on his chin. "How old are you, and what's you name kid?"

"20, Vegeta Ouji"

"Young, strong.." he craned over Vegeta's much smaller body and looked at the fresh white bandages on his side, before forcefully grabbing his index finger into the wound. Vegeta screamed out, the pain was so instant, so intense, he could feel His finger inside of him, and his face slickened with his fear and tears. "And..." The man paused, unaffected by his act of cruelty. "You have balls. Charging my Michael," Vegeta felt like an animal, he wasn't hurting anymore, he was scared, scared of Him, as he loomed over his useless body. "You're mine now Ouji." He looked over to Vegeta's 'doctor' "Frank, answer me this." He leaned up running his bloody hand over Vegeta's head almost possessively. Vegetas skin crawled at the touch as he tried to slide away. "How to you break a horse in?"

Frank was suddenly very unsure and worried at his beckoning. "Y-you teach it who's the boss...b-boss?" the plump doctor examined the clipboard closely; he was as nervously as the crying man on the table.

"Good job Frank." He craned a smile to Vegeta. "Time to break you in Ouji."


	4. Hit men, and Morals

**Chapter 4**

Mr. Tall and Scary left almost instantly, his threat still floating in the air. Was it possible to 'break in' a person, a soul? And most importantly, why the hell was Vegeta chosen? He lay back against the cold table, and stared intensely at the ceiling while Frank beckoned him with more questions.

"Do you have a spouse or girlfriend?" Vegeta threw him a faintly confused stare before shaking his head. "Alright good," Frank scribbled out more notes. "Do you have any family?"

Vegeta stared back at the ceiling. "Parents, they live up north, I haven't talked to them in a few years..." It seemed odd to this cold man on the table, that he ignored and abused any relationship with his parents, the people who Made him, and now when he was stranded and frightened he wanted so desperately to think Someone was out there worried, and looking for him. But no one would know. His neighbors never noticed him, hell the closed thing to a friend he had was the gym owner, down the street from his apartment. He had shared maybe three words with him.

He had no one.

Even the blonde from the train station, the person he risked his life for, didn't even know his name. He sighed softly as Michael aka predator, walked into the small room and took a seat in the corner watching Vegeta. His blue eyes looked over at Frank as he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. Wasn't the ceiling popular tonight?

"Alright Ouji any notified medical records we should know about, diseases, allergies, ect."

"You know...for the dump I'm in right now, you guys sure are precise, why do you care about my allergies" Frank gave him cold eyes, eyes that said it was very vital that Vegeta told him everything he needed to know, everyone was still playing nice now. Vegeta would like to have kept it that way. He sighed while sitting up, despite the pain in his side. "N-no, no allergies or medical problems". Frank went to scribbling.

"So your name is Vegeta Ouji? I'm Michael." the tall brunette extended a hand and Vegeta took it cautiously. Michael only smiled. "Hey, I won't bite." He gave Vegeta a good sturdy handshake before glancing at Frank, "You done? Boss said I'm here to clear up a few things with the kid." Frank only sighed and stood up glancing at Vegeta. "Best of luck to you," the grin that was on his lips as he left the room was anything but friendly.

"Where am I?" Vegeta suddenly wasn't too shy to ask. It didn't hurt to try now did it?

"Now buddy listen, I'm here to help you out, and you need to take advantage of that, but there are some things I'm not allowed to tell you. Now Boss says-"

"Who's Boss?"

Michael frowned, "Let's try and ask me something I can answer, alright?"

"Why me, Michael I've never done anything to anybody..."

"Exactly Ouji, you just a good civilian like all the rest, but you have something the rest don't have. Today in the ally you attacked me, an armed stranger. Let me ask you something, did you even know the broad, the damsel in distress?" Michael sat in a closer chair and looked up at Vegeta on the table. As Vegeta ran his fingers through his short hair, dried blood flaked off his scalp, thanks to 'boss'. He frowned and scratched at his head violently, shivering from the experience as he shrugged to Michael.

"I sat next to her on the train this morning, she tried to talk to me but I blew her off."

"Why did you run after her?"

Vegeta looked at Michael fully now, his deep eyes were more curious then judgmental. Why had he gone after her? He scratched the back on his neck before staring at the floor, Imagine if he hadn't, he'd be home now, in his warm comfortable bed, staring at his ceiling...hating his life, and questioning it all. He looked at Michael with serious eyes. "I had nothing to lose Michael."

Michael gave him a proud smile, apparently receiving the answer he had wanted and leaned back in his chair. "Boss has been running a lovely little 'organization' for many years now. Mostly small stuff, gambling, prostitution, fixing boxing matches and horse races, but just recently he's began dipping into hit men. You could say we've been scouting for new students, and..."He clasp his hands together, "You've been enrolled!"

The world slowly began to spin as he watched the man in front him talking about these sins as if it were Sunday dinner with the wife and kids. "But why me..."

"Well, when I shot you: A.) I couldn't leave you to die with all the evidence laying around, not to mention I would have had to kill the damsel to keep it quiet enough for me to get out of there, B.) You had the balls to attack me in the first place, which I respect. And C.) mister good ole' boy, you have something in you, something normal people don't, you mean nothing to no one, and that will get you far in this business. I see potential."

Vegeta looked at him cocking his head to the side. "You spoke with a British accent this morning...didn't you?"

To this Michael only laughed. "It throws off the descriptions victims give cops a lot of the time, because people stereotype races so much. Blondie only heard a British guy."

Vegeta was left dumbfounded. "But you Look like a stereotypical British guy..." He rolled his eyes, "and why were you mugging someone if you're making good money through 'boss'" The last word rolled off his lips laced with sarcasm, though Michael simply ignored it.

"Before Boss found me I'd been mugging for 10 years, old habits break hard." And with an almost humorous irony he pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it.

"What if you and 'Boss' were wrong and I'm not assassin material?"

"Excuse me; we like to use the term 'hit men' if you don't mind." He grinned, "Or ninjas," His face grew solemn as he took a long drag on his cigarette as if it'd help delay his response, "If you don't work out, we'll finish the job I started today and kill you." Vegeta felt himself go still, kill or be killed, it certainly wasn't a motto he'd expected to live by, but regardless it seemed his options were limited at this point.

"So do they just tell me to go kill someone and I do? I may need to point out I lack the skill of hunting people down and killing them on my resume."

Michael got up from his chair and stomped out the butt of his cigarette, "You'll go through training like everyone else, you'll be prepared before you go out on a job."

The Boss's words came back to him from earlier with haunting freshness, "Breaking me in?" The words made his entire body shiver as he glanced up at his 'friend'. Michael only gave him one small sympathetic look, before glancing down at the ground, he licked his lips slowly.

"No Ouji, most men come to Boss out of desperation, hell, everyone that works for him has screwed their own life up to much. They have nothing to go back to, and they certainly have no moral to strive on. You..." He walked over to the opened door, "You have a lot to lose, you have moral, and a conscience, and those things scare Boss." He glanced over his shoulder, "You have to sacrifice both to survive, but Ouji, and sleep well tonight, Boss has no plans of being that process till that wound is healed." He walked out the door and shut it firmly behind him, as Vegeta laid on the single metal bed he was provided he heard Michael lock the door before thumping up the basement steps.

He had to escape, before he had nothing to lose, before he belonged to the boss.

A/N Informative as far as chapters go, I believe anyways. I would really love some helpful reviews from everyone, I haven't gotten hardly a response at all, so just tell me if it's bad, or needs work, any criticism is Good criticism, and feel free to e-mail me anytime with advice and comments. The next chapter might take a little while to get up with the holiday season, and also a short story I intend on posting before Christmas, so stay on the look out!


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